Catalyst
by princ3ssf33t
Summary: It was illegal what they were doing right now. But Roy couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. Because he had almost lost her and he wasn't going to live another day without letting his feelings out. Written for Royai Week 2017. Theme: Catalyst.


He watched as she breathed in the early morning light. Slowly, evenly. Content in her dreaming. Unlike his own ragged breathing as he attempted to disperse all remaining after-effects of the nightmare that haunted him.

The glint of the sun spearing his eyes as it broke over the buildings mirrored the taunting sheen the sword had as it broke the skin of her neck.

Unbidden he reached out and moved the blonde hair that had fallen across her neck. The thin white scar that cut across the side of her throat taunted him. Reminding him of what he had almost witnessed. To what he had almost lost _that day_.

If there ever had been a catalyst for revealing how one felt, he figured nearly losing her to an evil homunculus intent on turning the entirety of the nation into a philosopher's stone so he could have the power to swallow god was one.

And that was what he did. It wasn't very long after his vision had been healed by Doctor Marcoh and both he and his lieutenant were dismissed from the hospital that he found himself sitting across the table from her in her apartment pleading with her. Attempting to explain that what he felt needed to be made known in some way before the next tragedy tore her away from his side.

She gave no response for the longest time. With her honey brown eyes fixed on the cooling tea in her hands, she rubbed her thumb across the rim of the cup. The motion drew his attention and he watched. It was soothing, rhythmic, exactly like the woman who captured his heart and was present in her dreams for far longer than he would ever admit.

When she spoke, he nearly missed it. Her voice was still a low rasp from the damage done to her due to his arrogance. She spoke of the risks that would arrive if they were to continue down the path. She was correct. She nearly always was. But he was done with the control the caution held over his life. It had done nothing to prevent wrongs from happening in the past.

Trust had been betrayed, lives taken, and threatened to destroy them all. He was done being cautious.

He had told her as such and moved around the table to kneel at her side. He grabbed her hands and held them within his own. Her attention slowly moved from her tea to his face. There were unshed tears in her eyes as they connected with his dark ones. They had stared at each other for a few moments more before her whispered agreement to what he was proposing they do.

There was no reaction for either of them for a moment. What they had just said was slowly sinking in. Sweat dripped from his hairline as he watched her eyes dart from his eyes down to his mouth. His heart picked up in tempo. Gingerly, she bit her lip and he was gone.

It hadn't taken long for her to be wrapped around him as he made the short walk across her apartment to the bedroom and fall into the bed. What followed was only something that he allowed himself dream about when he wouldn't recall what he was dreaming about in the morning.

And now he watched her sleep. He knew that he would have to leave soon. He should have left before the sun came up, he shouldn't have given into this in the first place, but this was where he felt he was supposed to be now.

He ran his thumb across the raised surface of the scar and was unsurprised when the movement woke her. She had always been a light sleeper, ready and willing to jump into danger the moment it made itself known to her. She smiled at him through the sleep that still gripped her and snuggled closer to the warmth his body gave off. He wrapped his arms around her and couldn't stop the contentment from running through his veins.

This was not supposed to be. He shouldn't be in the bed of a subordinate, naked and uncaring about what consequences that may entail for him, for _them_ in the future. He should have been out of her apartment long before the sun rose over the buildings surrounding them as to help diffuse any ideas of illicit activities were happening. He should have left then, while people were still making their way from their beds.

But none of that happened. And he didn't regret it. No matter what came after this, he would be satisfied. There would be no more regrets from here on.

He pulled her closer to him, burrowed his face in her sweet-smelling hair, and drifted off into sleep.


End file.
